The Darkest Hour Is Just Before the Dawn
by Undomiel5
Summary: In 472 of the First Age near Midsummer, a battle was fought between the Free People of Middle Earth and the forces of Morgoth, the first Dark Lord. It would later be known as the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. The losses were great on both sides, but for two of Turgon's captains the price was much higher and more personal.


F.A. 472  
Midsummer  
Soon after the end of the Battle of Unnumbered Tears

Night had fallen, and the stars shined down upon the camp of an Elvish host. In the center of the camp lay a large tent clearly that of a great lord. In an ordered fashion around it lay the tents of the other elves with the slightly larger tents of the captains of the host scattered among them. Winding his way among this tent city strode a noble elf with hair as black as the night and clad partially in silver armor. This was Ecthelion, Lord of the House of the Fountain of Gondolin, one of Turgon's chief captains. The elf lord was walking slowly toward the larger tent in the center of camp. His face was streaked with dirt and tears, and a bandage spotted with blood was wrapped around his upper left arm. In his right hand he carried two lists of papers.

What remained of this once great host of elves was camped near the north-eastern side of the Brethil Wood near the Dry River. The elves were on their way back to Gondolin after the terrible Battle of Unnumbered Tears. They expected to reach the hidden city late the next day.

The number of casualties for both men and elves had been high in that battle, and in this case the cost had been quite personal for Ecthelion.

A little earlier another elf had summoned Ecthelion to a meeting in Turgon's tent, and the lists Ecthelion carried were the names of the dead for the House of the Golden Flower and the House of the Fountain.

A minute later Ecthelion ducked into Turgon's tent. Scattered around the tent talking quietly were the leaders of the Twelve Houses of the Gondolindrim except for Turgon and Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. All of the assembled leaders had bandages in one place or another, and some still wore their armor stained with blood and the dust of the battlefield.

Ecthelion caught sight of Galdor, the leader of House of the Trees, standing nearby with a bandage wrapped around his head.

"Greetings, Galdor." Ecthelion said quietly walking over. "Are you injured badly?"

"Not terribly." Galdor said. "And you?"

"No, thankfully it isn't deep." Ecthelion replied looking at his injured arm. "An orc caught me off guard... Where is the king?"

"I'm not sure exactly." said Galdor. "One of the king's pages came by a few minutes ago and said that Turgon should be here soon."

"Alright," Ecthelion said, and the two lapsed into silence. Both were too weary to keep a conversation running.

It was actually close to fifteen minutes before Turgon appeared at the entrance to his own tent. His face was weary as he walked to the head of the table in the tent's center. The other leaders of the different houses gathered around and silently laid their lists of the dead from their own houses on the table. Only when Ecthelion put down two lists did Turgon look up, only now seeming to notice the absence of Glorfindel.

"Two lists." Turgon said slowly for he was very weary. "Where is Glorfindel? Tell me not that he has fallen." There had been enough things to do that Turgon had not been able to get all around the camp to see who lived and who had fallen, which was why this meeting had been called.

"Nay," Ecthelion replied sadly. "Glorfindel still lives at least for now. The injuries to his body are minor, but the injuries to his heart are much more serious, for Gloredhel his dearest twin has died just a few hours past, and already his heart is heavy with grief."

"Gloredhel dead?" Turgon croaked his voice breaking with grief. All the elves that he ruled over were dear to him, but the twins he cared for especially for they were his cousins, the children of his aunt Írimë.

At this sad news the faces of the other lords had fallen also, for Lady Gloredhel was well liked by all.

"Yes," Ecthelion said, "tis too true. She was badly injured during the battle, run through by an orcish blade, but managed to hold on for some time, only dying a few hours ago around the time the sun set from exhaustion and the effects of the poison on the blade."

"I see." Turgon replied leaning on the table for support. "How is her brother? How is Glorfindel?"

"His grief is great, as I said, and he will not leave his sister's side. He just sits silently by her body in the healing tent." Ecthelion said. "That is why I came to the meeting representing both houses."

"I will speak to him after the meeting." Turgon told Ecthelion.

"Thank you, my lord. That would be appreciated." Ecthelion replied.

The rest of the meeting went by somberly. Though many lives had been lost, there was some good news. The healers had reported that most of the rest of the wounded would recover, which Galdor relayed to the surrounding elves.

Eventually the meeting was over, and the rest of the elven lords dispersed around the camp to attend to different duties or to check on the injured of their own houses. Ecthelion however remained behind waiting for Turgon. They would walk together over to check on Glorfindel.

Soon enough the two elves made their way through camp toward the healing tents. The other elves so caught up in their own tasks not even seeming to recognize their own king passing through their midst.

"How are you?" Turgon asked abruptly after they had walked in silence for a time. Turgon was asking both about Ecthelion's wounded arm and about how he was taking the news of the dear lady's death.

"I'll be alright eventually." Ecthelion replied. "As you know my lord I have no biological siblings, but Glorfindel and Gloredhel have ever since we first met been like my own siblings, and now . . ." His voice trailed off.

"And now you have lost a sibling, that is a terrible thing even when you aren't related by blood, and the shock and suddenness of her death makes it all the worse." Turgon said.

"Yes." Ecthelion said sadly. "I always knew in my head that we could die in the battle, but in my heart I never thought she would die."

The two elves, the king and the lord, walked in silence the rest of the way to the healing tents.

Turgon and Ecthelion entered the large tent and paused by the entrance as they tried to stay out of the way of the healers moving swiftly about tending to the wounded. Looking around Ecthelion was surprised when after a quick look around he didn't see Glorfindel.

Snagging the arm of a passing healer's assistant carrying a bowl of dirty water, Ecthelion asked where Glorfindel was. The healer replied that because they needed the bed the healers had moved Gloredhel's body to the tent just next to this one where some of the other dead lay and Glorfindel had went with them as he was unwilling to leave his sister.

After thanking the healer who then continued on her way, Ecthelion and Turgon went back outside and went over to the smaller tent that the healer had mentioned. Once they entered this tent, the two elves almost immediately caught sight of Glorfindel. Even streaked with dirt his golden hair was easily visible.

Staring silently down at the ground, Glorfindel sat dejectedly and hunched in on himself beside the body of his fallen sister. On the cot beside him lay an elf lady of great beauty. Her golden hair and pale face were clean and the wound that had in the end claimed her life had been cleaned and wrapped in bandages that were hidden underneath her new clothes. So well had this job been done that it seemed to Turgon and Ecthelion as they saw her laying there that she wasn't dead but only asleep. Alas, this was a sleep from which the brave lady would never wake. Only her closed eyes, still chest, and cold skin showed that she had passed from this life.

Ecthelion walked over and knelt beside Glorfindel leaving Turgon standing by the entrance staring at his fallen cousin.

Ecthelion sent Turgon a worried look when even after calling his name Glorfindel didn't respond. "Glorfindel!" Ecthelion said a little more forcefully.

"Ecthelion." Glorfindel finally said seeming to come out of a daze. "You're back. How did the meeting go?"

"Well enough for that kind of meeting." Ecthelion replied.

Glorfindel then caught sight of Turgon still standing a little ways away and started to rise out of respect for the king.

"No. Don't get up." Turgon said coming over and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Ecthelion told me of Gloredhel's death. I'm very sorry. She will be mourned greatly."

"Your sympathy is appreciated, cousin." Glorfindel said less formally because they were in private.

"The hour grows very late, Glorfindel." Turgon said. "You should try to get some rest. We will have a long and busy day tomorrow."

"I don't want to leave her." Glorfindel replied even though it was very obvious how tired he was.

"There is nothing more than can be done for Gloredhel." Ecthelion said. "She has passed on to Mandos' care, but if it would make you feel better I will stay with her for a while."

"Thank you, brother. That would be nice." Glorfindel said as he started to rise.

But as he started to rise, he swayed badly and might have fallen if Turgon hadn't put an arm around his waist to support him.

"I'll make sure he gets back to his tent safely." Turgon said to Ecthelion who nodded his thanks in a silent reply.

The two elves, one supporting the other, made their way silently and mostly unnoticed through the maze of tents. They entered one slightly larger than the surrounding tents and that had the banner of the House of the Golden Flower waving gently in the breeze in front of it. Turgon helped the exhausted Glorfindel to lie down on the cot. Turgon picked up a blanket lying on a nearby chair, and turned back around a moment later to see that Glorfindel was already asleep. Turgon gently removed Glorfindel's boots and draped the blanket over him, before leaving to return to his own tent to get a few hours rest before they had to leave to continue on to Gondolin.

The next morning dawned bright and early for the inhabitants of the camp. Glorfindel woke slowly from a sound sleep, and he looked around slowly wondering for a moment where his sister was, and then after waking the rest of the way he remembered what had happened yesterday evening and into the early morning hours. His beloved sister Gloredhel would not be coming back, for she had passed on into Mandos' care. Never again would her voice be heard in Gondolin nor the sound of her merry laugh. Never again would others benefit from her wise counsel. Never again would she see her friends. Never again would the halls of the elves be brightened by her presence.

Glorfindel wondered dejectedly if he has the strength to continue on without her. So many of their family was gone. Finwe, Fingolfin, Fingon, Finrod, Aredhel, Argon, Angrod, Aegnor, both of their parents, on and on went the list of the dead of the House of Finwe. Why, why, he wondered did his sister have to be taken too.

Hearing the others in the camp moving about outside, Glorfindel dragged himself out of bed and started to pack the few belongings set out in his tent. Around the time Glorfindel finished packing; Ecthelion pushed aside the tent flap and entered the tent.

"Oh, good, you're up." Ecthelion said. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Well enough considering the circumstances." Glorfindel responded.

Ecthelion just stared sadly at the ground. He took a second to pull himself together before continuing. "I spoke to the king a little while ago. He wants to try to get started on the rest of our trip back to Gondolin as soon as possible. Also, we have both been assigned to part of the rear guard for the rest of the trip."

"As the king commands." Glorfindel replied.

Due to it taking longer to get the wounded ready for travel and the slow pace the elves were forced to travel at due to the many wounded, It was just before dawn when the group of elves got close to Gondolin. Glorfindel and Ecthelion were riding together side-by-side near the back of the group as the long party of elves slowly wound their way through the end of the Orfalch Echor toward the broad plain that contained the great city. It was only after they passed through the Gate of Steel that the elves caught sight of the great city; Gondolin's white walls shown almost like a beacon for the weary travelers in the pre-dawn light.

Due to the many injured elves, the party's approach across the valley of Tumladen to the city was slow. The sun had finally started to rise above the mountains turning the surrounding sky and clouds into a beautiful spectrum of vivid blues and pinks and bright yellows as the front of the long column entered the Main Gate that guarded the entrance to Gondolin. The beautiful sky encouraged all the weary and injured travelers, but it held a special meaning for Glorfindel whose house's device was that of a rayed sun. His heart felt lighter as he looked at it. A new day was dawning and with it Glorfindel felt new hope. He would always miss his sister, but now he felt as if he could continue on for a time without her. Glorfindel knew in his heart that they would meet again. Unknown to Glorfindel then was that day would be sooner than he thought.

Gloredhel's body was born back to the White City with all the honors due to one of Turgon's fallen lieutenants, and according to her last request her body was born up into the mountains by her friend Thorondor, Lord of the Eagles, and buried near the cairn of her Uncle Fingolfin.

Epilogue:

Almost 40 years had passed since Gloredhel's death when Gondolin fell to Morgoth's evil power. Many were killed in the ensuing battle as the elves bravely fought to try and save their city. In the end, Morgoth's power was too great for them, and the city fell. Among the many dead were Glorfindel and Ecthelion who both died fighting against the Balrogs, former Maiar who had been seduced by evil, and so the three siblings parted by death for much too long were finally joyfully reunited in Mandos' Hall.


End file.
